


Not a Killer

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Dr. Frederick Chilton - Freeform, Gen, Hannibal - Freeform, One Shot, Post Yakimono, nbc hannibal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chilton has been accused of being the Chesapeake Ripper and no one will listen to anything he has to say. So why is Freddie here to interview him?</p><p>“I am a highly esteemed, well-educated, and noteworthy psychiatrist. You write articles for some sleazy online tabloid.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Killer

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written a fic so please go easy on me! It's probably inaccurate since I don't really know what prisons are like but I hope you enjoy it.

He was told that someone wanted to see him but he wasn’t told who the visitor would be. He had been wheeled over from the infirmary ten minutes ago and was handcuffed to the table, waiting. _Why even bother putting the shackles on me? It’s not like I can hurt anybody with the state I’m in_ , Chilton thought begrudgingly as he played with the hole in his face with his tongue. The bullet Mariam Lass shot through his cheek had missed his brain entirely, but he had to go to physiotherapy to help regain the motor restrictions his injury had cost: limited movement in his right arm and leg. Chilton tapped his fingers on the table in front of him. It was hard for him to do but it had become a matter of pride.

“Dr. Frederick Chilton,” said a voice when the door opened. A woman walked in with her shoulders square, her head high, and what Chilton imagined to be her tallest heels. Looking up at her from this angle made him think that she carried herself the way she did to make a point of looking down on others, even though she was a very small person. “It’s been a while,” she said as she sat down in the chair opposite him.

“Miss Lounds,” Chilton greeted. It didn’t surprise him that it was she who requested to see him.

“I don’t want to engage in any small talk or beat around the bush,” Freddie placed her camera down in front of her alongside her voice recorder. “Let’s get started.”

Chilton looked at her with a defeated expression on his face. He knew he wouldn’t be getting out of this meeting. Freddie seemed to be the type of person who will go after what she wanted when she wanted it. “Whatever you like,” he said.

“Just so you know, I had to pull a lot of strings to get this interview.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to beat around the bush, Miss Lounds,” Chilton said. When Freddie didn’t respond, he shrugged. “I didn’t request it.”

“I’ve been covering the Ripper case for years,” Freddie said, “I’ve covered all its developments. I’ve also covered everything to do with Abel Gideon and with Will Graham, both of whom are your victims, seeing as you framed them both for committing the crimes you did.”

Chilton took a breath. “Allegedly,” he said with a stiff jaw. It had been weeks since his incarceration and he still grew agitated when he heard what he had been accused of.

“Of course,” Freddie responded without batting an eye.

“I’m not sure I want your attention,” Chilton said.

“And why is that?” Freddie asked.

“I’ve seen the things you’ve written about Will Graham. He certainly is a topic of discussion due to his…unique way of looking at things, but definitely not in the way you’ve portrayed him.”

“And what do you know of Will Graham?”

“Plenty more than you would,” Chilton snapped, trying to think back to a day when he would have ever thought he would be defending Will Graham. “I was his psychiatrist, after all.”

“Maybe you just saw what you wanted to see, doctor,” Freddie said.

“I could say the same to you, Miss Lounds,” Chilton replied.

Freddie was indifferent to this. “Will Graham was—is—a maniac.”

“Will Graham is not a killer.”

“He tried to murder Hannibal Lecter,” Freddie stated without missing a beat.

“That’s because Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper,” Chilton hissed.

“A claim with no leg to stand on,” Freddie said.

Through the entire exchange, her expression or tone of voice hadn’t changed. She seemed completely indifferent to Chilton’s growing agitation and seemed to use this to her advantage; keeping her shoulders square while his were hunched and keeping her chin up while he peered up at her from his lowered head.

“I am not a killer,” Chilton stated.

At this, Freddie leaned in. “But you are something,” she said. “How is it that in all of this, you just happened to be in what is probably the most convenient position for a serial killer to be?”

“How is it that they think I’m eating people when everyone knows _I’m a fucking vegan_ ,” Chilton barked.

The corner of Freddie’s lip twitched. She seemed to be getting pleasure from watching him get riled up. “Good cover,” she said, simply.

Chilton groaned in response and buried his head in his left hand. When he stayed that way for a moment, Freddie spoke up again. “So what exactly did happen?” She asked.

“I came home and torso of Abel Gideon was in my guestroom,” Chilton stated monotonously, “but I did not put it there.” This was something he had repeated time and time again.

“Then who put it there?”

“Why am I even bothering with this? It’s a waste of time!” Chilton said, raising his voice again. “You won’t listen to anything I say and all I’m doing anyway is repeating myself over and over. I am _not_ the Ripper.”

“Then why did Mariam Lass shoot you?”

“I DON’T—I don’t know.” Chilton tried to compose himself. He didn’t want Freddie to write him as a nutcase who screamed his story at her. “Hannibal must’ve gotten into her head somehow.”

Freddie, again, seemed unfazed. “So you’re saying that all this evidence that points to you from every single possible angle is all just a setup?"

Chilton looked at her. “Wait a minute,” he said, “How did you even get all this information? I’m sure most of it isn’t available to the public.”

Freddie shrugged. “I have my ways.”

“Apparently,” Chilton muttered.

“Don’t sound so disapproving, doctor. Some methods of therapy you were so fond of came up during my research,” Freddie said. “You and I, we aren’t so different.”

“I’d say we are,” Chilton snorted. “I am a highly esteemed, well-educated, and noteworthy psychiatrist. You write articles for some sleazy online tabloid.”

“Easy there, doctor, or you might hurt my feelings,” Freddie said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table. She seemed completely unmoved by his insult. “The fact remains, we both do what we shouldn’t in order to get results.”

“We’re unethical,” said Chilton.

Freddie smirked. “Absolutely.”

“But the ends justify the means.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So then what are you hoping to achieve by the end of this interview, Miss Lounds?” Chilton inquired.

Freddie eyed him warily for a moment before leaning back into her chair. “You know what? Forget it.” She pushed the stop button on her voice recorder and put it in her purse. “You aren’t going to give me anything useful. No need for me to waste any more of my time.”

Chilton tilted his head in question. “Really?” he said, “Why would you say that?”

Freddie put her camera back around her neck. “I know how this is going to go,” she said. “There’ll be a lot of back and forth like we’ve had so far and I will leave with no more than I walked in with.”

“And how do you know I won’t be useful to you?”

“Because you don’t want to be,” she said, standing up. “I can tell you aren’t going to cooperate.”

“How would you know that?”

“Like I said, we aren’t so different.” Freddie waited for a moment for him to deny it but Chilton didn’t respond. She nodded. “Goodbye, Dr. Chilton,” she said.

Chilton watched her as she started to leave. Every movement she made seemed to be deliberately slow, as if she was waiting for him to stop her and tell her all of his secrets. He wasn’t about to do that but something was definitely itching at the back of his mind. He watched her step out from in front of her chair, step around it, push it in under the table, adjust her purse and jacket, turn on her heel, walk towards the door and put her hand on the knob.

As she started to open the door, Chilton spoke. “Thank you, by the way.”

Freddie turned. “What?”

“I said thank you,” Chilton repeated. “For…saving me. For saving my life.”

Freddie thought back to the first time she saw this man, when she watched as Gideon cut into him, when she pumped air into his lungs for what felt like eternity until the FBI showed up. Her heart sped up just thinking about it. “I didn’t save you,” she stated.

“But you could’ve left. God knows I would have if I were you. But you didn’t. You could have left me to die but you didn’t.” He seemed to be pleading with her. “Why didn’t you?”

She didn’t know what to say. The last thing she had expected from him was gratitude. She looked away.

“Thank you,” he repeated.

Freddie nodded and turned to leave, but she paused after she opened the door. “I don’t think you did it, by the way,” she said over her shoulder. “Like you said, you’re not a killer.”

She closed the door behind her.


End file.
